


This Bird Has Flown

by Rogers_Car



Category: The Beatles, The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Based off of Skyrim mostly lol, Bird Prince Paul, Dragons, Elf George, Fantasy AU, I’ll just tag him when he gets here, Mentions of Rape, Mentions of Slavery, Ringo will be in this, hell yeah, kinda?? not really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:01:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26575693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rogers_Car/pseuds/Rogers_Car
Summary: The Zhewin were a race of bird people, wings flowing from their arms and feathers fading into downy feathers at the wrist. Their legs digitigrade as they walked around on their toes. Their faces were arguably the most beautiful of any other creature on their planet, though that made them wanted by many. Some had dabbled in magic and wizardry, though not as much as the wise Dracmor, who were beautiful and mystic dragon people.The Zhewin lived in peace with the other races for a while until the Grafmir, a fire subrace of elves, decided that the birds weren’t good for anything than a decoration or status of power. They were driven out of their city and forced to relocate to a forest city named Heradon, occupied by a reptilian race known as the Wairgs. The reptiles were also driven out of a different city for being stereotyped as thieves and pickpockets. Their caravans travel outside of the cities, but it’s too dangerous for them to ever travel into the cities again.Paul was a Zhewin. Actually, he was the Zhewin prince of Heradon, which was ruled by two families of the different races.This is a Fantasy AU I created based off of a Queen fic i posted here before
Relationships: George Harrison & Paul McCartney, John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	1. The Prince

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is a new fanfic I started that was based off of Temples of Syrinx. These two fics take place in the same universe but not in the same timeline if that makes sense??? The Wairgs are based off of Argonians from skyrim btw i totally just ripped off of skyrim

Hälgin was a beautiful country. Lush forests and beautiful lakes and oceans dotted the land, and at night, two large moons circled the sky, which was painted with beautiful purples and oranges. What wasn’t beautiful was the civil war between one race and the rest of the country.

The Zhewin were a race of bird people, wings flowing from their arms and feathers fading into downy feathers at the wrist. Their legs digitigrade as they walked around on their toes. Their faces were arguably the most beautiful of any other creature on their planet, though that made them wanted by many. Some had dabbled in magic and wizardry, though not as much as the wise Dracmor, who were beautiful and mystic dragon people.

The Zhewin lived in peace with the other races for a while until the Grafmir, a fire subrace of elves, decided that the birds weren’t good for anything than a decoration or status of power. They were driven out of their city and forced to relocate to a forest city named Heradon, occupied by a reptilian race known as the Wairgs. Those reptiles were also driven out of a different city for being stereotyped as thieves and pickpockets. Their caravans travel outside of the cities, but it’s too dangerous for them to ever travel into the cities again. They just settle for trading with those who don’t fear them.

Paul was a Zhewin. Actually, he was the Zhewin prince of Heradon, which was ruled by two families of the different races. The boy was often weighted down by golden jewelry and his face was painted with eyeliner, but he was considered the most beautiful Zhewin of all. Because of this, he was highly protected. The Zhewin were constantly being looked for and even though they had flown a long way away, the Grafmir wouldn’t stop until they found the birds.

The prince looked into the mirror of his room, sighing as he fixed his hair. He had short, dark hair, contrasting to the more common blonde hair found in their race. There was a picture of his mother that sat atop the dresser and he gazed at it for a short while. 

Paul’s mother, Mary, had been the most beautiful woman of their kind in Paul’s, and many other’s, opinion. She had an itch for adventure, but being the queen, and, on top of that, pregnant, she had been forbidden to leave. After she had Paul, she had prepared to leave, but before she could grasp the courage, she’d gotten pregnant again. Once Paul’s brother had grown up enough to not be completely dependent on his mother, she’d gotten ready to leave again, but sadly she got sick before she could leave. It felt like everything was trying to stop her from the potentially awful fate she might face if she’d gotten caught.

Once she’d died, Paul had tried to run away, but the guards had caught him and brought him home. Seeing his father after that had made him wonder how he could be so selfish. The man had shouted at Paul and cried, and Paul just went up to Mikes room and hugged him, crying with him.

Now, Paul wouldn’t let himself cry as he gazed longingly at the photo, tearing his eyes away as he heard a knock at the door. “Come in!” He shouted, glancing at the jewelry and fancy clothes he had yet to put on, currently in the toga that he’d be shouted at by his father for leaving the house in. A young wood elf entered his room. He was Paul’s long time friend named George, whom he’d met when the young boy and his family crossed the border of their city whilst fleeing from a wild beast. The guards had protected the family, and after the beast was killed, the family was brought up to the kings and queens of both races to determine whether it was safe to let them in. Paul went to make sure George was alright, since the boy seemed extremely shaken up from the attack. Both families decided the wood elves would be safe to live in their city, and were provided a place to live as long as they helped around the palace. The family grateful accepted, and were paid for their work. George became a sort of squire for Paul, but the two ultimately ended up more as just friends.

The young wood elf looked at Paul, smiling in amusement. “You’re hardly dressed!” He said, fangs on full display as he smiled. “Your father wants you down in not too long, he’s gonna get pissy if you’re not dressed up.” He snickered, making Paul roll his eyes. “You know I can’t put this mess of an outfit on myself. Isn’t that what you’re here for?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at the boy. George just snickered as he went to grab the garments. “Just ‘cause you have wings doesn’t mean I gotta do everything you know.” George snorted, sorting through the clothes as Paul took off his toga and slipped into the leggings. 

George turned around and looked over at Paul. “Why do you get to be the beautiful one?” He huffed. “I’ve just got stupid pointy ears and fangs.” He mumbled as he went to help Paul into his robes. They were white and trimmed with gold flowers to accent the jewelry that was up next in the effort of decorating Paul. Paul glanced at George in the mirror. “I didn’t really have much of a say in what race I am. I’d choose anything over not being able to leave.” He grumbled. George grabbed a golden chain circlet with a crescent moon in the middle of it, putting that on his forehead. He styled Paul’s short hair, brushing it out and parting it to the side so that the crescent moon was visible. He then grabbed a broad golden necklace with a diamond pendant in the middle, resting that around Paul’s neck.

“I feel like I weigh 80 more pounds.” Paul mumbled. George couldn’t help but laugh at that. “You know, you probably do.” He teased, letting Paul put on his bracelets. The Bird looked at himself in the mirror and frowned. “Miley doesn’t have to wear this shite. Why should I?” Paul grumbled. “Neither does Tun-Ei, that lizard prince.” He huffed. George shrugged. “Mikey isn’t the one who has to look pretty for all the girls. And with Alexei, their culture is quite different from yours.” The elf chuckled, watching as Paul fixed his posture as he stuck his long earrings into his ears. “At this point I feel like one of the girls.” He said, watching George grab the golden colored paint and a thin brush. He let the boy very carefully paint his eyeliner before looking at himself in the mirror. He was very...golden. 

This jewelry and paint was obviously meant for the people with golden hair, but his family just so happened to be one of the few people with black hair. It didn’t look bad, though. It complimented the gold and made it look brighter. He sighed as he looked down at his robe, flattening out the wrinkles. “Let’s go then.” He said to George, walking with him down the stairs and to the table, where his family and the reptile family were eating. He sat next to Tun-Ei as usual, smiling at the younger prince.

Paul’s father looked up at the young Bird and furrowed his eyebrows. “You’re late.” He said as George had gone off to see if breakfast was ready. Paul missed the company of his best friend immediately and he looked at his father. “I know, da’. I didn’t mean to be.” He said. Jim’s face relaxed, not being able to bring himself to be mad at his son for something so trivial as that. He cleared his throat. 

“You look good, son.”

“You look like a girl.”

Tun-Ei finally spoke up. His voice was hoarse and his words were hissed out, an attribute he shared with the rest of his race. His mother, Reesha Dovah-Sil (meaning Reesha Dragon-Tongue in the ancient language) glared at him. “Tun-Ei!” She hissed out, causing both boys to snicker. “That’s what I told George,” Paul snorted, his soft, soothing voice a contrast to the young reptiles raspy voice, “didn’t say nothin’. Probably agrees.” He said, making the other boy laugh. He didn’t talk to Tun-Ei as much as he probably should. He didn’t have anything against the Wairg, he was just much younger than Paul by a good few years, so he couldn’t really talk with him about much or relate to him.

Jim looked at Paul and shook his head. “You have magic lessons later this afternoon. Before that, though, you’ll be heading out of the borders with many guards today. Victoria will also be there for healing just in case anything happens.” He said, fixing Paul with a hard gaze. “You are under no circumstances allowed to leave without any of the guards.” Jim told the young man. Tun-Ei huffed, looking at them both. “I wanna go!” He said, his mother shaking her head. “You must wait, my child. You’re too young.” The queen chastised, eating her bread roll.

Paul looked up at his father. “Can I bring George?” He asked Jim, who chewed on his lip. “You’ll have to ask George and his parents.” He said, finishing his food. Paul fiddled with his headpiece as he ate, finishing quickly since he was so excited. “May I go ask now?” Paul asked, looking up at his father with pleading eyes. Jim just sighed and nodded. “Yes, yes, you’re excused.” He said.

Paul got up and went to the kitchen to find George helping clean up the pots and pans. “Geo, I’m going out of the city later.” He said, George’s eyes lighting up. It had been a long time since he’d lived past the border. “That’s great, Paul!” He said, smiling at his friend. He was excited for the young man, knowing that he’d always wanted to see the outside world. Paul nodded excitedly. “I want you to come with me, y’know, if you’d like.” Paul told him, and he’d never seen George move as quick as he did going to his parents. The young Bird watched as George begged his parents to let him go, beaming when they finally said yes.

Paul wrapped his hand around George’s wrist, pulling him along as he went to the wood elf’s room. “Go on, get dressed! We get to pick out our horses!” He said. George made a face at that. “Horses? Why not fly?” He asked and Paul couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Not only can you not fly, you dolt, some of the guardsmen and women are Wairgs, and they cant fly either. Besides, what’s the fun in looking down at the forest from the sky?” He asked, finding something for George to wear. “Here.” He said, handing the younger boy some robes. “You’ll wanna look nice on your first time out in a while.” 

George mumbled for Paul to “turn around, please” as he took off his clothes and changed into the nice robes Paul had picked out for him. Once george finished getting ready, he smirked at George. “I’ll race ya to the stables.” He said. George grinned and shoved him before making his way out and running downstairs. Paul snickered and went to the window, diving off the balcony and spreading his wings. He updraft picked him up immediately and he flew to the stable, looking back at the door of the palace and seeing George finally open the doors and run towards the stable. Paul snickered as he landed, the young elf finally catching up to him and stopping to take breaths. “Hey, no fair, you cheated!” He said. Paul just gave a shrug and George shoved him playfully.

They went to the stable boy, a young elf just like George, who smiled at him. “Hello, Prince Paul. I assume you’re here to pick out your horse.” He said, stepping aside to let the boys into the stable. Paul looked around at the horses, who watched George. Animals like wood elves, his mind supplied un-helpfully. “Take your pick. They’re all healthy creatures, i assure you.” He smiled.

Paul looked at all of the horses, though their attention was still on George. His eye caught on one horse, a pitch black stallion. He went over to it, his hand sliding down the horse’s nose. “Who’s this?” He asked, brushing his fingers through the horse’s mane. The stable boy went over and smiled. “That one’s Pyramus.” He said. “Strong stallion, that one. Good stamina too.” He said, paul smiled and hummed at the thought. The beautiful white and gold prince stomping through town on the only black horse around. “I’ll take ‘im.” He said, letting the stable boy grab a saddle, specifically made for Paul. It was a gold painted saddle, providing a beautiful black and gold contrast with the golden chains and jewelry around the edge of the saddle.

Paul smiled as the horse was suited up and brought out, being allowed to mount the horse. The Bird smiled and goaded Pyramus to walk, letting George saddle up his horse. The young elf looked at him and smiled. “You look powerful on that horse, Paul.” He said, chuckling. George had picked out a smaller, white spotted light brown horse. Paul smiled at his friend. “Isn’t that the point?” He chuckled. 

They took the horses down to the barracks where they were advised to meet the guards they were leaving with. They met with Victoria, a Zhewin healer that was a long time family friend of the royal family. “Good morning, prince.” She smiled brightly at Paul. “The guards are ready. We’re only awaiting your command.” She glanced between the prince and George. The two shared a glance before Paul nodded. “I think I’m ready, Vic.” He said, smiling as the guards went with him to the front entrance of the city. Many heads turned as the prince rode down the street on his black and gold horse, teenage girls staring up at him with practically hearts in their eyes.

George looked at Paul, smiling at him. “This is it, you’re finally gonna be able to see the forest.” The elf looked out at the gate that was opening for them. Paul swallowed a nervous lump in his throat and he nodded. “Let’s go.” He said, leading the party out of the safe walls of Heradon and into the untamed wilds of the forest.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul meets an unexpected traveler

Paul smiled as he looked around at the beautiful forest. George looked just as enthralled, not having been able to leave the borders of the city for a long time. “It’s just as beautiful as I remember. Granted, last time I came through here, I was running for my life.” He said, looking around. Paul was awestruck, looking at the lush green forest. There was very little light filtering in from between the leaves of trees, and he could spot a few glowing mushrooms and moss in the distance where the light couldn’t reach.

“I can’t believe you lived here.” Paul glanced over at George, who smiled and rolled his eyes. “Well, I didn’t live precisely here.” He said, fiddling with the reins he was holding. Paul couldn’t keep his eyes in front of him, gazing around at the area with wonder. He was so enthralled, he hardly noticed that the guards had stopped at the sound of a lute being strummed and the soft, but breathy voice accompanying it. Paul frowned at them. “I didn’t know bards traveled through here.” He said, and Victoria looked at him. “They don’t.”

Paul furrowed his eyebrows as he pushed his horse to the front despite being told otherwise. The music sounded beautiful, but there was something off about it, especially in the singing. He’d never heard a thing like it before. His eyes scanned the area in front of him, taking out his bow, the Bow of Auriel, a weapon passed down from generations. It was a bow made out of Moonstone, enchanted in a way that arrows would explode in a burst of light upon impact if they were shot with the bow.

Paul listened as the music got louder, and he saw a figure on the ground. There were horns protruding from his head and he donned elven armor, a beautiful set. The figure didn’t look elven, though, far from it. As the Bird approached, the figure didn’t stop playing. Paul chewed his lip, noticing he was a Dremulir, a race that was looked down upon for their frequent use of conjuration spells which often included necromancy. The man had taken his elven gauntlets off in order to play his lute, and the sinking feeling in Paul’s stomach was from the realization that the man was playing his last song because he had a nasty gash on his side, blood staining the tree bark behind him. 

Pau returned the bow to its spot on his back and the arrow to his quiver as he approached the figure. The man tilted his head up, no doubt being hard to do under the weight of his horns. His eyes were black aside from white slivers in the center. He had a handsome aquiline nose and short but messy auburn hair. His face was pale, no doubt from the loss of blood. The man muted his strings, looking up at Paul like he was a god or deity, which he was sure he looked like since the strange man had most likely never seen his race before.

“Finally,” the man breathed out, “me soul has flown to Aegaria. Aye, I may be a sinner, but please, for the love of The Nine, take my pain away.” He said, watching as what looked like the embodiment of all Nine Divines crouched down to his level. “Victoria,” Paul called out, “come, help him please.” He pleaded, watching as the girl got off of her horse and gingerly approached. She held her hands up as she assessed his injuries, a golden light flitting between her fingers before she pressed her hands to where the majority of the man’s injuries seemed to be.

The young man cried out in pain, gasping and arching his back as Victoria shushed him gently, telling him that “everything will be alright, lovely.” Paul watched with concern, and George had run up to him to see if everything was okay. Some of the guards had the same idea, holding their elven swords. When the light from Victoria’s hands died down, and the man stopped shouting, Victoria motioned for one of the guards to help her pick him up and put him on the back of one of the guards men’s saddles. 

George looked over at Paul. “You didn’t have to do that.” He furrowed his eyebrows, and Paul looked at him. “I saved you, didn’t I? Why not him?” He asked, going back on his horse. He motioned for the men to turn back at once, making his way back to the city. George wasn’t done with the conversation, though.

“Paul, he’s a Dremulir. They do, y’know, necromancy!” George tried to ignore the way Paul rolled his eyes. “And you and your family could’ve gone and ratted us out and told everyone where we are. They could be a king and queen of their own little land after selling us out, but you didn’t. Besides, if he tries anything, he’ll have the entire royal guard after him.” Paul said as they made it back to the city.

After they made it back to the castle, practically the entire royal guard was bringing the strange adventurer to a secure room, where they could lock the door only from the outside. The man had fallen asleep, so he was easy to bring in and lay on the bed. Paul’s father had chewed him out for bringing someone like that into the castle, but Paul wouldn’t hear any of it, he went with George to the kitchen to make the man a tray of food, light enough so that he could hopefully get it down.

Paul made his way to where the man had been kept, the guards looking at him. “We can’t let you in.” One of them fixed Paul with an unmoving gaze which made the young prince bristle. “I found him, and I want to make sure he’s alright. If I need help, I’ll shout for you.” He said, moving to unlock the door and step in.

The man was still asleep, though he looked smaller than before because he’d been stripped of his armor and the bloody underclothes he was wearing. Paul set the tray of food down on the side and went to sit in a chair by the bed. He didn’t want to wake the man, but he wanted him to eat, and, well, he was also intrigued and wanted to know more about him.

Paul gently shook his shoulder, chewing the inside of his cheek as he watched the man’s dark eyes flutter open. The Dremulir’s eyes settled on Paul and he was silent for a second before he tried to sit up, where he groaned in pain. The bird went to help him up and shush him, pulling the blanket up as it fell slightly. When the stranger settled down, Paul placed the tray of food in front of him. He eyed it before looking up at the Prince. “If I’m dead, how come I’m still in pain?” He stared at Paul like a lost puppy, or like Paul was truly an ethereal being, straight from Aegaria. 

Paul shook his head. “You’re not dead. My friend saved you.” The prince explained, motioning to his food. “Eat. I’m sure you need it.” He said, setting his hands in his lap as he watched the man eat. 

Paul’s curiosity got the better of him, and he stopped the man’s moment of peace because the wheels kept turning in his mind. “Who are you? How did you find this place?” He asked, the man stopping his eating as he looked up. “The name’s John. I’m an adventurer, if ye couldn’t tell.” He said, looking around the room. “Where’s me lute?” John asked, meeting Paul’s eyes again. The bird got up, a bit annoyed that he hadn’t answered his question of how he’d gotten so close to their city. Typically, Dremulir live across the ocean in a country far away from them. 

Paul grabbed John’s lute from where it was propped up against the bed and handed it to him. The man tuned the instrument quickly, beginning to pluck at the strings. “My name’s Paul. I’m the first prince of this land.” He looked at the well-crafted instrument in John’s hands and smiled. “I play as well.” He told the Dremulir. John seemed to mostly ignore what Paul said, only piping up to say “Paul’s a strangely normal name for somethin’ like you.” Paul furrowed his eyebrows and looked at him. “I could say the same for you, you know.” He mumbled.

“I don’t know many adventurers who know how to play. I thought it was usually murders and contracts.” Paul smiled, listening as the man plucked at the strings. John waited until he was done fiddling with a melody in his head before looking back up at Paul. God, the man’s eyes were so piercing, Paul had never seen anything like it. “How old are you?” John finally spoke up, looking the prince up and down. Paul shifted slightly uncomfortably under John’s gaze, looking out the window. “I’m eighteen.” Paul noticed John’s brows knit together at that, taking another look at him. “Ye look like yer no older than sixteen.” John said, a toothy grin spreading across his face.

Paul felt his cheeks light up in embarrassment. No one had ever said that to him before. “Well, how old are you, then?” He asked, a defensive tilt to his voice. John hummed as he plucked at his strings, looking out the window. “I’m 20.” He gazed out at the small houses lining the streets and the people coming and going from the shopping centres. “I bet ye could fly to that fountain in the square.” John quipped, not faltering on the strings. Paul looked at John, who still had his gaze out the window. The Bird shrugged. “I reckon I could.” He said.

When John looked back at Paul, the prince felt his breath catch in his throat. He didn’t know if he could get used to those piercing black eyes, the one sliver of white looking like it was looking right through him. “You’re not a necromancer, are you?” Paul asked, looking at his hands that had positioned themselves between his knees to stop him from fiddling about. John let out a loud laugh, like nothing the Bird had ever heard, before he let out a groan at the strain it put on his abdomen. The Dremulir shook his head, fingers stilling over the strings. “No, I couldn’t bring meself to dabble in necromancy.” He said sadly, looking up at the sky. “But I do know quite a lot about conjuration and the like.” He hummed.

Paul removed the tray from John’s lap when he seemed like he was done. “I’ll be back around dinner, yeah? Sorry they got you all locked up in here.” He sighed apologetically. John waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. ‘M not gonna be doin’ much movin’ about.” He smiled at the prince. Paul stood up and smoothed his robes out. “Right,” he mumbled, glancing back at John. “I’ll check up on you in a bit. Don’t go milling about too much.” He smiled, bringing the tray out of the room.

Paul almost immediately ran into George, twisting his body to avoid colliding with him. The young elf in turn maneuvered himself to duck out of Paul’s way. “Shit, sorry ‘bout that.” George mumbled, making sure nothing was lost. “I was just coming to check on you, y’know, make sure everythin’ was alright.” He looked at Paul expectantly as he tapped his foot.

Paul shrugged as he walked with George. “He’s a nice bloke. His name’s John and he’s just an adventurer. Wouldn’t tell me how he came across this place, but I doubt he meant to since he’d seemed like he never saw one of us before. I also doubt he’s from Hälgin, for that very same reason.” Paul said, going to the kitchen and setting the tray down before cleaning off the plates. George wrapped a hand around Paul’s feathery wrist. “Here, I’ve got it.” He said, but Paul shook his head. “No, no, I made the food, I’ll clean it off. You’re not a servant here, remember.” He said, glancing at George who pursed his lips and nodded, leaning against the counter.

Paul let a comfortable silence settle over them as he cleaned the plates, setting them back on the stack. “I think you should meet him.” Paul looked at his friend, drying his hands off. “He plays the lute like nothing I’ve heard before, just like you do.” He set the towel down and walked with George to his own room. George tapped his fingers against his leg and he closed the door behind him. Paul let out a huff as he was finally able to take off the gold wrapped around him like snakes. “So sick of the jewelry.” He grumbled, looking in the mirror as he took the earrings out of his ear. “I really do look like a girl.”

George furrowed his eyebrows. “I think you look good. It suits you.” He stuck his hands in his pocket, turning around and letting Paul change out of the uncomfortable robes he was in. He could hear the older boy scoff. “If looking like a prissy twat suits me, I suppose.” He took off his leggings and changed into more comfortable undergarments before allowing George to help him into new, more soft and comfortable evening wear. 

“Don’t say that, Paul. You know know that’s not true.” George sighed, sitting on the bed. “You saw those girls going batty for you in the square.” He laughed, kicking his legs back and forth. Paul just shrugged. “Or maybe they wanted me to throw my gold at them.” He mumbled, turning to George. “I really do thing you ought to meet John. He’s very interesting. He’s not a necromancer either, though he does study conjuration.” He said. “I hate the school of restoration. I know it’s useful and all, but I wanna learn something fun.”

George laughed and shook his head. “We wood elves use alteration. The only fun spell to use is telekinesis, but I’m no master at that spell yet.” He said, falling back on the bed as he fiddled with a loose thread on his shirt. “I bet you Tun-Ei is going to wanna be all over this new guest.” George grinned, looking up at the ceiling. Paul couldn’t help but laugh at that, going to sit down and tap his foot. “I hope the guards let up. Hardly let me have some time alone.” He jumped as George suddenly sat up, looking at Paul with a harsh gaze. “You were alone with him? Christ, I thought there was at least a guard there! What if he hurt you?” He pinched the bridge of his nose.

Paul rolled his eyes, looking at George. “Oh, can it, will you? I’m alright, nothing happened. Besides, what’s he gonna do with me, he’s been right clobbered!” Paul said. George just sighed and shook his head. “What will I do with you, Paul?” He said, cracking a smile.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John tells Paul and George a story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, this ones longer than usual!

Paul was practically bouncing in his chair as he finished his dinner, waiting for the rest of the family to finish. He wanted to talk to John again, get to know him, and he couldn’t leave until after dinner. Was it just him, or was Mikey eating way too slow?

Jim glanced up at Paul as the young prince fiddled with his fork. “You know, I wish you wouldn’t hang around that man. You know his type cause trouble.” He said finally, looking back down at his food. Paul scoffed, of course he did. “He can’t do much, da’. He’s crippled in bed, and he’ll get lonely if he’s got no one to hold an actual conversation with.” Paul looked up at his father with a challenging gaze, like he knew he was right and he was provoking Jim to try and argue with that. Jim opened his mouth to say something, but the voice that spoke was decidedly not his, and instead belonged to a raspy voiced lizard.

“He’s right, you know. You should listen to your father.”

Paul turned his head to meet eyes with Reesha Dovah-Sil, frowning as her piercing yellow eyes stopped whatever he was going to say from escaping his mouth. “It would do you right to look out for yourself. You have too much compassion, and it could kill you.” She continued, eating a spoonful of the soup. 

Paul’s hands clenched around his spoon before he set it down and stood up. “You’re not my mum.” He spat, Jim gaping at Paul, but the queen looked as though she was expecting it. “Paul!” His father said in exasperation, but the prince was having none of it. “If I want to have more than one person to hold a conversation with and learn about, I will. I saved his life, and he’s been nothing but kind to me so far.” The bird said before getting his bowl and bringing it into the kitchen.

George looked up at Paul as he entered, raising an eyebrow. “Your da’ let you out early?” He asked and Paul just shook his head. He moved to clean off his plate before grabbing the tray George had made for John. “I might’ve excused myself.” He said. “I should apologize to the queen, though. Maybe later.” He sighed, motioning to George to follow as he walked towards the Dremulir’s room.

Paul made sure to knock before walking in, motioning for George to follow. Once the elf had made it in, he closed the door, watching Paul place the tray on John’s lap. As he began to eat, Paul cleared his throat. “How’re you feeling today, John?” He asked, receiving a shrug in response. “I’m alright, I suppose. Me side aches awfully, though.” He mumbled, pointing his fork at George. “Who’s this?”

The young elf could only wave, never having seen a Dremulir before. “I’m George, Paul’s adviser and friend.” He said, looking out the window. John hummed and took a bite of the pheasant breast that had been cooked to perfection. “You eat your own kind, then?” He looked up at Paul, who couldn’t help but smile. “They’re not ‘our kind,’ but I do feel strange about eating birds.” He said. “I prefer veggies and whatnot, but I’m not allowed to eat if I don’t eat what’s prepped for me.” He explained.

“I’m the one who has to cook ‘em. They’re me friends.” George spoke up, grinning slightly as he looked at John. “Paul said you don’t study necromancy. What school of magic do you study?” He asked curiously. John raised an eyebrow at George before looking at Paul and grinning. “The princess has been talking about me?” John watched as Paul huffed and he saw the heat rise to his cheeks. He could tell that struck a chord with him, and he’d love to mess with the prince.

“Aye, I don’t study necromancy, but I still study conjuration, just not the lot of it. I dabble in alteration and illusion, but that’s just so I can fuck around and cause trouble.” John grinned. “Many a day was spent disguised as a beautiful wood nymph just to surprise me friends. Or using telekinesis to dunk a glass of water on ‘em.” He snickered. 

Paul couldn’t quite make out this strange man’s character before, but now, he certainly could. He caught the mischievous glint in John’s eye when he explained his schemes, and just the way he spoke made Paul want to join him, and he knew George felt it too. The prince never got the time to screw around and have fun. It was always gold jewelry and spellcasting lessons. 

“No destruction spells, then? I don’t think Father McCartney would like it if the place burned down.” George smirked, John shrugged, looking amused. “I do know Flames, but I’ve got no intention of burnin’ the place down.” He said, finishing his food rather quickly. He seemed to turn a tad serious for a moment. “I’m grateful for you for helpin’ me out there, y’know, and I don’t think I’m gettin’ home any time soon. Nor to I plan to. I wouldn’t mind stayin’ ‘ere and lending an extra hand. Slayin’ dragons and whatnot.” He smiled.

Paul looked at George and chewed his lip. “I’ll have to ask my da’. Not sure if he’ll like that or not.” He brought his hand up to chew at his nail. “Have you ever done it? Slain a dragon?” Paul asked curiously, and he noticed a dark look pass across John’s face. He was about to apologize for bringing it up before the Dremulir spoke. “Once. Though I wasn’t alone. I was fighting with the guardsmen of me town.” He said, and Paul saw the realization hit George. “Oh.” Was all Paul could say, but John took it as a cue to keep going. 

“Never seen a dragon that was dark as the night, as big as a castle. This dragon didn’t use fire, he spoke the language of the ancients. He shouted once, and he could knock over a battalion of men. He shouted again, and it would rain bits of flamin’ rock. His name was Raughan. Never seen a dragon like that before in me life, and neither had anyone else. We weren’t prepared, the only warnin’ we got was his horrid screechin’ comin’ towards the city.

“I was seventeen at the time. Was sittin’ in the living area with me mum, learning the lute I was. I’d just started talkin’ to ‘er again. ‘S a long story, that one, I won’t get into it now. All of a sudden, a guard comes knockin’ all frantic-like. Told me mum to run to the castle and follow the instructions once she got there. I was told to grab me most trusted blade and follow the guards. They were short on men, y’see. Well, I grabbed me trusted sword, that Daedric one right there,” John pointed to a long, jagged blade that was black as ebony, some sort of red glow emanating from the crevices. The sword looked like it was forged from Oblivion, and, knowing John’s race, it probably was.

“Dovahjusk. I ran out into the field with her. She stabbed the damn thing’s heart, but not before he destroyed the city. Hard to kill flyin’ things. You guys got it easy. What’re you lookin’ at me like that for?” John mumbled as Paul and George both gave him a pointed look that meant he probably shouldn’t have said that and that it was probably insensitive, but John didn’t really care. “Any road, he destroyed walls, shouted houses apart. At some points, it felt like he slowed time itself. It was only a matter of time before our king’s champion came out and did what that damn dragon did best: the girl shouted at Raughan, and the slithery beast fell out of the sky. Could you believe it? I’ve never heard any man or woman shout like that before, and she did it. 

“The beast was pinned to the ground, and we all rushed it. I went straight to his neck, despite all of his thrashin’. His scales were like metal and nothin’ was getting through to him. Before we knew it, whatever the girl had done to him had worn off and he went right back into the sky, shoutin’ the vile words that sucked all of the strength out of us.

“We pressed on, though, and after another failed attempt of trying to kill him on the ground as he landed, the girl shouted at him again and knocked him out of the sky for the second time. I went for the same spot, and after wailing on ‘im, me blade made purchase in the soft spot of his neck. The wretched beast let out a harrowin’ wail as he threw his head back, takin’ me trusty blade with ‘im. I thought I’d been disarmed, and that I was utterly helpless, but he stumbled around and shouted before collapsing with a final screech. The Champion went over to the bloody thing and gripped one of his horns, ripping it off. She was a warrior of a girl, I’ll tell you that much. She thrusted the thing in the air, and we all cheered.

“Well, I went to go pull my blade out, and as I did, the beast’s scales started disintegratin’ and flyin’ off to the wind. Underneath, he was glowing as wisps of what I can only believe now was his soul began surroundin’ the girl. When the last of the scales had gone from the dragon, the trail ended, and she looked like she’d lost her breath. Despite havin’ been tossed around and clobbered by this dragon, when she looked back up, she looked good as new. Crazy, I thought I was. Talk around town was that she’s a dragon warrior. That she takes dragons souls to channel their power into shouts like the one she used.”

John looked back up at the two, holding a hand out to ask if Paul could give him his blade, but the prince didn’t move. He wasn’t stupid, John thought. Even though he had no intention of harming the bird, he wouldn’t give him his blade. It was understandable, once John thought about it. “What happened next after that?” Paul asked curiously. John shrugged. “Well, when the skeleton of Raughan lay there, so did his heart, though I hadn’t looked to closely at it. Who would? The Champion girl picked it up and put it in my hands, and I thought she was crazy. Then I noticed that it didn’t feel like a heart. Or, at least what i’d think one would feel like anyway. It had a smooth black surface and I could see me own reflection in it. The damn thing was heavy too. 

“I held it with me the whole time I walked back to the city, now destroyed. I had made it to the castle and asked where everyone was. I was directed to the basement of the castle, and there were so many people, but not as much as I thought were in the town. 

“I was callin’ out for me mum and me aunt, and while I found me auntie, well...” John trained off. “I think you can piece together the rest.” He said, turning around to avoid the two sad gazes. His eyes landed on his armor and he hummed. “The champion girl brought me to the armory, had the dragon’s heart repurposed into a chest plate.” He said, pointing to the chest plate of his armor on the ground. “They made matching gauntlets and greaves, though If you look at them, you can tell they aren’t the same inky black as the chest plate.”

Paul looked at John, intrigued by the entire story. He sat completely still in a small wooden chair by the dresser, his hands tucked between his knees. “I lost my mum too.” He said softly, looking at the floor in front of him. John raised an eyebrow at him and readjusted himself so he was laying back down. “Yeah? ‘S not a contest, lad.” He mumbled. “You want a contest? My mum died to a fucking dragon. What’d yours do? Fall out the sky?” He sneered, and Paul stood up quickly. “I was just trying to relate to you so you wouldn’t feel like a freak like I did. You don’t have to be such an arse about it.” He said, grabbing the tray and motioning for George to follow.

George glanced at Paul as they walked, frowning. “Nice bloke, is he?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. Paul felt his face heat up at that. “He didn’t do anything like that last time. I don’t know what that was.” He said, looking down at the tray of food. “Actually, I think I do. It was only three years ago. He said he was twenty.” Paul said. “It’s been for years for me, and it still shakes me up. He just deals with it different than I do.” He said, going to the kitchen and cleaning off the plates. Now he felt bad for leaving.

“Going on an adventure sounds fun, doesn’t it?” Paul asked, setting the plates in their stack and helping George clean up. “I think I’d like to go adventuring. Maybe with him.” Paul looked at George, who looked just as intrigued, but chewed his lip. “With him? Really? He’s an ass, Paul.” He said, but Paul shook his head. “He can be nice. He was nice up until that bit about his mum. He slayed a dragon, and he’s an adventurer anyway. I think it’d be nice to have him along.” He finished cleaning with George and he dried off his hands. “Would you come with me? If I went and ventured out?” He asked. 

George looked at Paul and thought about it. He knew more than Paul did about what was out there, though the thought of actually exploring, of finding what’s really out there was intriguing. “I’d go anywhere you go, I suppose.” He finally spoke up, and Paul smiled brightly.

——————

Paul didn’t eat breakfast with the others the next morning. He went to the kitchen to grab the tray for John and went to his room. He knocked before opening the door (despite not getting a response). As he entered, John didn’t turn his head from where he was sitting now. He seemed to feel better now because he’d pulled a chair up to the window and gazed out while he played his lute. 

The Dremulir was singing softly, but they weren’t any real words. Paul liked his voice. It was slightly nasally, yet soft as he hummed. Much like his speaking voice. Paul mentally facepalmed himself. Of course, that’s a stupid thing to say. Paul cleared his throat and the strings stilled. “I’ve got your breakfast.” He said, walking up to John and holding out the tray. The other nodded in thanks, taking the tray and setting it on the windowsill. “Ta.” John murmured, picking up the fork so he could begin to eat.

Paul went to sit on the edge of the bed, looking out of the window as he tried to think of something to say. He pulled at a thread from the sheets of the bed before looking up at John. “I get it, you know? Why you lashed out at me last night.” He said, sighing. John stayed silent, pushing around the food on his plate as he gazed out the window. 

The prince glanced at John, feeling a bit nervous. Christ, why does this man have to be so difficult? All Paul wants is someone to talk to, and for John to have someone to talk to as well. 

“I was wondering, you know...if it’s not too much trouble, you could bring me and George with you when you’re all better. Like on an adventure?” Paul asked, looking out the window and avoiding John’s eyes. The Dremulir raised an eyebrow, and Paul could feel his eyes on him, searching him. 

“‘M not your knight in shinin’ armor, princess.” John mumbled and Paul clenched his fists, though he tried to keep his cool. “I didn’t say you were.” Paul said, letting out a sigh as he tried not to grab the little demon by the shoulders and shake him, telling him to stop being an asshole. “Look, there’s nothing for me here. Sure, I’ve got gold and whatnot, but the only reason I’m here is to take the throne when my dad dies and marry a pretty girl. I want to see the rest of Hälgin, everything I’ve missed being here and sitting around.”

Paul finally looked over at John, and he still had that same searching gaze fixed on the prince. After about a minute, the Dremulir finally spoke up. “Yeah sure. So long as you actually know how to fight.” He said picking away at his food until it was finally gone. He looked back at Paul and grumbled. “Oh, Seven Hells, you can’t even use a sword, can you?” John sighed. Paul chewed the inside of his cheek. “I know my way around a bow. I know some magic as well.” He said, suddenly embarrassed by how little he understood about adventuring. John rolled his eyes, setting his fork down. “Yeah, well, It’s gonna be rather hard for you if you’re in close combat with someone and you can’t protect yourself.”

Paul shifted in his seat. It all sounded very dangerous. He knew it would be dangerous in the first place, seeing as how his race is hunted for sport and slavery, but...the thought of getting a sword through the heart or burnt to a crisp wasn’t appealing. Though, the thrill of being able to venture out of the forest was very very appealing. “I know some wards and protection spells. Besides, my people are experts of restoration.” He argued. “George is also very good when it comes to hunting. He’s better at fighting than I am.” 

John just glanced at Paul and thought it over for a bit. “Fine, but I’m not going to be the one to get you out of here. You’ve gotta escape yourself.” He stood up and grunted at the ache in his side. Paul stood up and moved to helped him, but was disregarded with an “I’m good.” Paul chewed his lip. “Well, tell me when you feel better, and I’ll talk with my dad about it.” He said, and John mumbled in acknowledgement as he fixed the hair around his horns. “Yeah, will do.” He says down on the bed. Paul almost wanted to beg Victoria to come up and help him heal faster just so they could get to leaving faster.


End file.
